


you got a fetish for my love

by Summer_Pond



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha!Keith, Alpha!Shiro, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Diplomacy, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Kink Meme, M/M, Mating Bites, Omega!Lance, Pining Lance (Voltron), Polyamory Negotiations, Threesome - M/M/M, allura & lance brotp, canonverse, pining Sheith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-01-03 23:33:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12157047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summer_Pond/pseuds/Summer_Pond
Summary: Ella28’s Prompt of Omega!Lance dress-upDiplomatic missions were normal dealings for team Voltron. What wasn’t normal was the customary wear that Lance had been left to wear.Still. He went to the planet with low expectations and left acquiring two mates as a payoff so it wasn’t a terrible exchange in retrospection.





	1. watch 'em panties hit the floor

**Author's Note:**

> will i ever stop writing a/b/o stories???  
> probably not

It was supposed to be a normal diplomatic mission where they came, introduced themselves and acquired the loyalty of another planet free from the Galra Empire. They would jump in, jump out and continue freeing other planets with little stress and planned obstacles.

 

Easy peasy.

 

Except, for the fact that they had landed on a planet that mirrored similar Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics shared on Earth, justifying the planet's traditions of wearing the formal wear for each secondary gender. Formal wear that each of the Paladins, Allura and Coran were obligated to wear to adhere to the planet's traditions. Apparently it was customary for each dynamic to adorn a certain style to symbolize their hierarchy and place in society. Seemed a little weird, but alright, Lance wasn’t knocking the planet’s inhabitants request. Even if the resident’s appearances seemed to spook him the first time he saw them. The closet definition he could compare to his knowledge from Earth was that the inhabitants looked like a mix between a wolf and a goat who were bi-pedal. With the face and fur similar to a wolf’s, a snout that seemed to differ in color from the various individuals that greeted them, from pitch-black to rosy pink, and eyes that resembled the cross appearance of a goat.

 

Bes’tiia, they called themselves, an ancient race that prayed to the Moon Goddess and spoke of the thrumming blood flowing through everyone’s veins that called to their instincts. They had greeted in robes of flowing material that shimmered and glowed with certain movements, twirling around their slender clawed paws that vaguely seemed to resemble having opposable thumbs from the glimpses that Lance saw when they were removed from the hanging material that covered their upper limbs. The Bes’tiia had requested that everyone changed into the clothes that matched their dynamic, “Respect for the Moon Goddess” they had sternly said. Allura had conceded, even if she gave an odd look to Lance that the Sharpshooter wasn’t quite sure why the Princess looked slightly wary. Whatever. It was a reasonable request.

 

What wasn't reasonable was the outfit that had been laid on the bed that Lance had been shoved into to change his clothes and get ready for the banquet. Lance had taken one look at the clothes (could it even be considered clothes with just how bare it was?) before shrieking at the expected outfit in surprise and disgust. He had jumped away from the outfit, almost like it offended him simply by existing.

 

They wanted him to wear that?!?

 

What was going on?? He bent near the bed, poking at the material that had been clinically laid out, the contrast to the colors of the material against the soft white bed seemed to make the outfit even more salacious. He felt warmth burning in his cheeks, his breath coming quickly as he tried to keep another yell from escaping his mouth. Oh Quiznack!

 

He was pretty sure it was this planet’s version of a BDSM outfit. It had to be. It even had a collar, albeit it was made of a silky-looking material that connected thick white strips of the thin material that made up the coverings for the torso. Those straps connected downwards to make up a wrapping that he guessed was supposed to cover his lower part of his body. The definition of cover was being stretched however. Considering how there seemed to a small patch of emptiness resembling a circle on each side which Lance assumed would be exposed made his face flare up again. It was also short. Too short. He lifted the material up and placed in in front of him and well. It looked like the lower covering would only go down to his mid-thighs, and that was been generous since he wasn’t even wearing it. He guessed that if he was wearing the outfit, the skirt (he was going to refer it like that because it seemed to resemble a mini-skirt) would possibly ride up and just barely cover his rear. _Oh Quiznack._

 

And because he had lifted up the outfit, he realized that the back of the wear was bare. Literally bare, with the only thing existing being a long strip of black cord that connected the collar down to the skirt that had a golden hoop which rested just above the crack of his ass. Seriously? The Bes’tiia wanted him to wear this???

 

He had slapped his hand over his mouth to muffle another incoming scream, dropping the material like it burned him before flittering his gaze to the rest of the bed. Apparently, that wasn’t all that was expected to be worn. Next to where they had placed the main outfit were several things. Two golden metal cuffs, connected with transparent material that seemed to resemble gauzy fabric were carefully spread onto the bed ending with a small hook. Lance realized that it was supposed to wear those cuffs on his wrists and connect the hooks to the circular space on the skirt and he really, really was sure that this made it a BDSM outfit at this point. The real icing to his really messed-up-cake was the fact that the Bes’tiia had laid underwear on the bed. Actual, real-life, not joking simple undergarments that Lance was supposed to wear under all of this. He gingerly picked it up, the appearance of it looked like it was soft gel but as his fingers touched the material, it instead felt like satin. Honest to God, satin. He used both hands to pull at it, watching as the material easily followed the action and _yeah_. Another pump of blood kept his rapidly beating heart going. He casually lined his index finger on the lower area of the underwear out of curiosity and he actually squeaked when the material opened up as he swiped his finger along.

 

He quickly swiped his finger up and the opening that had been created which sealed it up again. _Well_. That was terrifying to think about why such alien technology existed so that undergarments could react to movements to open and close on a whim. Why was this a thing?

 

There seemed to be more hoops laid on the bed, which Lance grasped at and pulled, seeing how it opened up so he could clasp it on somewhere. Judging from the size, he guessed they were supposed to be worn around his forearms and thighs. They were quite pleasing, shiny thin golden hoops that shone and glittered as he waved the object around. Still didn't mean he stopped resenting the entire outfit that he was expected to wear because the jewellery was pretty.

 

Apparently his deliberating had been stretched out long enough that his friends were already dressed up and waiting. A knock on the door startled Lance and he briskly opened the door to peek out and see his fellow teammates, all of them dressed in their formal wear. Formal wear that undoubtedly was not on the same level of exposure that Lance was expected to wear.

 

"Are you kidding me?" He had spat out, observing the robes that everyone was wearing, dark navy with sprinkles of light that sparkled and danced as his teammates fiddled around, seemingly enraptured by the light-show on their clothes. They mirrored similar designs that the Bes'tiia wore when they greeted Voltron, except instead of simply reaching down to the floor in a curtain of material, it spilt up in front in the middle with the back mimicking a cape, allowing vision from knee and downwards for everyone. Still more covering than want was expected from Lance.

 

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" Keith's question seeped in half curiosity, half exasperation as the Red Paladin leaned on the wall across the door.

 

"Is there an issue with the zip? I had to get Keith fix it up. I can help you with yours if that's what is troubling you?" Their leader posed the offer to Lance and that sent a hot flush to his face with the mental image of Shiro of stripping Lance down and carefully putting on the revealing outfit, fingers sliding up tan thighs and pinching flesh....

 

"No. It's not like that." Lance gritted out, avoiding eye-contact to the two male Alphas in the team. "I'm not going to join the banquet."

 

"What. Why not Lance? What's going on? Are you sick?" Hunk's concerned voice increased in intensity as he fretted, the Yellow Paladin crept closer, almost trying to push the solid material to see the Sharpshooter without the hindrance of the door.

 

"Lance. I know exactly what the outfit they have given you consists of. Please let me help. Please?" Allura gently asked, moving forward and met Lance's eye, she gestured with her head almost like a secret code and Lance narrowed his eyes.

 

"Fine." He stated, opening it up enough so Allura could slip through before the others could get a glimpse of what was inside. "Is this why you were looking at me weird when we met the Elders. You knew what was going to happen?" He poked the accusation at the Altean who had glided in, her own robes shimmering with the action as they hovered above the smooth floor.

 

"Yes." Allura replied with some hesitance.” I was well aware of the customary wear for this planet." She took a cursory glance at the outfit that had been messily dropped onto the bed, hanging off the edge like a silky waterfall. With nimble fingers, she grasped it and held it up, the material flowing as she peered at it with a furrowed forehead. "Although I must say, it looks much more revealing seeing the material in person."

 

Lance snorted. "You can say that again." He scratched his head in puzzlement, trying to discern why his outfit differed to everyone else's. "So what's the big deal with me getting this stuff to wear? Everyone else seems to be wearing almost the same things as the diplomats."

 

Allura paused, almost looking worried when she returned her gaze back to the Paladin. "I believe it is because you are an unbonded Omega."

 

Lance's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? I'm supposed to dress-up like this just because I'm unbonded?!?"

 

Allura looked uncomfortable from the accusation, “I am very sorry. I know it is a very backwards custom, but the Bes’tiia have always had a long-lasting tradition of…promoting the claiming of unbonded Omegas.” She winched, giving an apologetic expression to her Paladin.

 

“..I’m seriously close to just locking myself in my room. Can I do that? Just say ‘hey the Blue Paladin is out-of-commission this time. Come back and ask again when I don’t have to wear BDSM cuffs on my wrist.’ Please tell me I can do that?” Lance clapped his hands together and looked pleadingly at Allura.

 

She shook her head, “If we do that, then we show we are not fully willing to cooperate with the Elders.” She paused, watching as Lance’s face fell. “However, I do not think this is all bad.”

 

Lance perked his head up. “What? Why’s that?”

 

A small smirk curled on the Altean’s face, “Well, I can think of at least two people that would appreciate the outfit on your body. Two Alphas perhaps that would not be able to take their eyes off you.”  

 

A few seconds was all it took for Lance to realize what Allura was implying. “Woah, woah, woah! Hold it sista, you are not talking about our resident surly Mullet-Boy and our Brave Leader? The two Alphas who are together mind you? No way.”

 

“That is exactly what I am saying.” She gathered the material into her arms and held it to Lance’s face. “I promise you that it will definitely be appreciated.”

 

Lance gave a dubious look to Allura before his cheeks heated up as he tried to pinpoint the reactions from Keith and Shiro. His Omega nature was almost preening from the mental images of imagined stares of want on the two Alpha’s faces.

 

“Fine. I’ll wear the stupid customary outfit.” He hurriedly mumbled out, trying to appear aloof.

 

“I am pleased.” Allura grinned back, patting Lance’s shoulder with a friendly gesture. “Do you need any help dressing up?”

 

More heat rushed to his face. And let Allura know the existence of the damn underwear that had been hidden under the sheets?” M’fine, just tell everyone else I’ll be out in a bit.”

 

Allura gave a curt nod, turning around before pacing herself towards the door. She stopped, giving one final coy look. “Remember, you are going to look absolutely ravishing.” She gave a sly wink, sending Lance’s lips to part in a gasp. _Alien Princesses’, honesty!_

He gave a final hard look at the outfit in front of him. Sighing, Lance stripped himself, removing his gear before blankly looking at white cloth of his overall outfit. He slipped it on, feeling how soft and ticklish the material seemed to be against his skin. He bit his bottom lip, feeling restless as he removed his perfectly normal underwear and slid on the alien undergarment. He felt ridiculously exposed, as his legs, arms, chest and back were unprotected and shown off. Everything seemed to gently kiss his skin and it was sending more jolts of embarrassment through his body, as he slowly clasped on the cuffs and hoops with care. He tried to tug down the skirt because it was riding up, to no avail. The material seemed to just cover his crotch and a little space below, and really, he was freaking out about the possibility of randomly popping a boner in this slip.

 

That would make it a really awkward diplomatic mission.

 

Lance could definitely live his life without that happening thank-you-very-much.

 

He inhaled deeply, palms with a light coating of sweat (which, gross, he didn’t need extra pheromones in the air) as he opened the door to step outside to his awaiting teammates.

When he stepped out, several things happened. He refused to meet the eyes of his teammates more than a few seconds. He didn’t need the visual cues anyway because the first thing he hears is Pidge’s high-pitched screeching.

 

“I’M NOT SEEING THIS. NOPE. NOPEE.” Pidge’s yell seems to be enough for everyone to react at once.

 

“You look stunning Lance.” Allura has a proud smile, clasping her hands together.

 

“I must say, that color looks stupendous! You really are wearing the customary clothes with finesse my boy!” Coran’s excited comment sets a grin on Lance’s face as he forgets his embarrassment.

 

“Oh wow, Lance. I didn’t expect this to be why you took so long…” Hunk trails off, looking partially curious and sheepish at the same time.

 

The compliments send a flutter through Lance, and he’s tempted to peek at the remaining reactions from his two teammates who had remained silent. He realizes why. There’s a high flush on both the Alpha’s faces, nostrils flared as matching jaw-drops seem to mirror on their faces. The sheer fact that these two men had been stunned speechless makes Lance keen. It’s doing wonders for his self-esteem as he drinks in the sight of two Alphas weak and enraptured by the sight of the dressed-up Lance.

 

“I’m walking in front of you.” Pidge injects, waving a finger at Lance. “There’s no way I’m going to deal with the incoming looks from _certain_ people.” She accuses, confusing Lance. What was she talking about?

 

Allura primly coughs, “Shiro, with me? I believe the Elders would like to be introduced to the leader of Voltron to establish some authority and understanding of our duties.”

 

There’s no recognition that Shiro hears the words, which Allura counters by coughing again loudly. The Black Paladin blinks several times before nervously swallowing. “R-right. I can do that. Of course.”

 

Shiro seems to give one last look at Lance before he follows Allura, Pidge trailing behind, muttering things under her breath. Hunk seems to raise an eyebrow and Lance walks beside his best friend, returning the curiosity with a shake of his head. The Omega walks, chattering with Hunk. But he can feel the piercing stare behind him from Keith who seems to be tensely walking, seemingly unable to place attention anywhere that isn’t on Lance’s exposed back that sends shivers down his skin by the heavy gaze.  Keith’s stare doesn’t seem to waver even when Lance picks up his pace.

 

The group arrives at the banquet hall which is already packed with the planet’s inhabitants. There are coos and grunts from individuals that Lance passes, and he shudders as they look at him appraisingly. His confidence that had been floating his head quickly drains out as the Bes’tiia hungrily bear their attention to the curve of his spine, his legs, the teasing skin below his skirt as he shifts his lower limbs to cover the space, arms crossed as he covers his chest from the stares. There seem to be Aliens around him constantly, clicking their tongue, trying to engage in rapid conversations and _sniffing_ him. Fur touches his skin and he’s trying not to panic as they seem to all huddle around him. Clawed hands grope at him, and Lance can feel his Omega scent sour from the intrusion. He is about to scowl before something solid, and definitely not fur parallel him on both sides. The scent of two dominant Alphas smother Lance and he realizes that Shiro and Keith have flanked him, their protective aura warding some of the Aliens off. But not all.

 

The distaste from the inhabitants is stifling and Lance has to restrain from a whimper escaping his lips from an instinctual need to please the haze of Alpha all around him.

 

“Do you have a reason to be this close to a Paladin’s personal space?” Shiro directs at the crowd around Lance, and the Omega feels relief when the Bes’tiia look uncomfortable from the accusation.

 

“We were simply admiring the goods.” A bold one pipes up, undeterred from the intimidation act the Black Paladin establishes.

 

“Did you just call one of the saviors of the Universe ‘ _goods_ ’?” Keith insults back, baring his teeth and glaring at the increasingly rigid postures of the Aliens.

 

“He is an unbonded Omega on the team. It is obvious that there are not any suitable partners in his vicinity. Unless there is an issue with his potential breeding capacities for why he has not been claimed yet.” The cruel words twist into Lance’s stomach and he feels the hot burn of shame as one of the Aliens freely mocks him in front of everyone, in front of Shiro and Keith. It’s almost like he isn’t on equal standing, the same level respect that his teammates get simply doesn’t exist when the Aliens feed their lustful gazes at his body and ignores his embarrassment.

 

“I would strongly advise refraining from speaking about my teammate that way.” Shiro’s voice is calm but it holds deadly intent as he levels a steady expression to the inhabitants.

 

“Your _‘teammate’_ is obviously not worthy of the title of a Paladin of Voltron. Such a simple task of attracting a mate should be biologically wired, yet this Omega shows very few instances of actively trying to appeal to a suitor. What a failure.”

 

Lance feels sudden wetness in his eyes, his mouth open as he’s torn between gasping and spitting the insults back at the Aliens. His stomach plummets from the words and he can feel the condemnation eat at his insides until his throat constricts and he really can’t lose his cool in front of everyone _he’s better than that_ ….

 

A flap of material covers his vision, cocooning him until he can only see strips of the scene in front of him. “Out of my way now.” A rough voice echoes, snarling with anger pierces through the crowd, as Lance feels himself being led out, a solid push of a body behind him that directs him forward to the parting of individuals as Lance spies Keith stomping ahead.

 

The journey is silent. But Lance doesn’t need visual cues to feel the tension that seems to surround his front and back. He wants to make himself small, wants to avoid the stare of concern from Shiro behind him, the glances Keith gives when Lance peeks out from the material draped across him, hiding his exposed body.

 

He’s not even sure where his two teammates are leading him until he feels the door open to a compartment and all three of them come to a stop in Shiro’s room.

 

The agitation in the room is palpable and Lance isn’t sure what’s going to happen next.


	2. i wanna touch, i wanna kiss, i wanna fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk. And then they fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honesty, there was a good chance that this was never going to get completed. sometimes miracles can happen.
> 
> am i happy with this? nope
> 
> am i glad it's done? yes

It’s suffocating. The tension seems to bleed into every crevice of the room, layering over each breath coating in apprehension and tightly-wound inhale and exhale. No one moves, not with the silence piercing through everyone’s minds and the simple shared confusion of what was going to happen. What was happening?

 

This was one of the most awkward situations Lance found himself in (and he had quite a lot of stories to share). He grips the material thrown across his torso, and slowly shimmers it off, seeing as his vision expands and holds the cape closely to his chest. He observes how Keith sits on Shiro’s bed, grasping the bed sheets with visible tension, shoulders straight and gaze staring at the ground. Shiro stands a meter away from Lance, fingers clasping against each other, eyes that fly from focusing on Lance and then drifting away to follow Keith’s rigid form.

 

This is horrendous, the silence, the awkwardness. Lance just wants the white noise that seemed to ring in his ears to stop.

 

“What a party, am I right guys?” The light-hearted tone seems forced even as Lance pushes it through his lips, but he feels like he needs to say something, anything.

 

“How can you be fine with letting them say those disgusting things about you?” The accusation digs deep into Lance. “About how you were worth…nothing more than breeding stock?” Keith growls out, lifting his gaze to bore his attention to Lance.

 

Lance feels his breath hitch from the intense stare. He also feels anger bubbling up. “Excuse me! What makes you think I was okay with them being in my personal space?”

 

“You didn’t seem so pissed off when you were being surrounded by the Bes’tiia!” Keith fires back, pushing himself up, briskly stomping forward until he’s in Lance’s face. “Your self-preservation instincts weren’t going off, is that what happened?”

 

“The hell?! What gives you that idea, asshole.” Lance shoots back, equally venomous.

 

Keith narrows his eyes. “Your scent…it was…receptive to the reactions of the Aliens.”

 

Lance’s mouth drops.

 

Seriously?

 

Keith really thought the reason his scent curled into submissiveness was because of the Aliens? Lance shifted, feeling as the cloth in his hands rubbed against his bare chest and arms, the silky material of his outfit seemed to press against his skin even more than before. He brought the material up to his face, muffling his words as his cheeks started to pink and grow warm.

 

“m’a scent chang’d ‘cause o’ve you two…” The confession almost could have been whispered from how distorted it came out.

 

Keith steps forward, his midnight bangs almost tickling Lance’s forehead. “Could you repeat that so the whole class can hear.” The sarcastic reply sends another jolt of anger pulsing through Lance and the Omega grits his teeth, shoving Shiro’s cape at Keith seeing how the Alpha stumbles from the unexpected action.

 

“Screw you! I said the reason my scent changed was because of you two, not because of the Aliens.” Lance almost shouts his answer, watching and hearing the response from both Keith and Shiro’s stance shift to surprise.

 

“Both of us?” Shiro echoes with hesitation. “Lance. What do you mean by that?”  

 

Shit. What was he supposed to say? ‘Oh hey guys, I’m kinda half-in-love with both you, even though the two of you are already in a happy relationship?’ Oh Hell no.

 

“Never mind. Forget it. Just. I’ll leave now.” Lance mumbles out, turning around and leaves his exposed back to face his teammates.

 

“Lance please wait!” Shiro seems to break from his stupor and wildly grabs the closet part of Lance. Which happens to be the black cord that runs down his spine. It’s purely by accident, but in Shiro’s desperation his organic hand wraps around the piece and _pulls_ , which seems to tighten the feel of the collar around Lance’s neck and seems to coax a low shock through his body. In an instant, the Omega can feel something different in the air. Something seems to be connected to his instinctual nature to please and Lance hotly realizes a desire _to present_ that’s sparked from the black cord flowing on top of his spine. Alien technology?

 

The reactions from Keith and Shiro aren’t subtle either. Shiro lets go, like the material physically burned him, placing a hand across his mouth as his eyes widen and his breath hitches. Keith inhales quickly, violet eyes seemingly being eaten up by blackness, posture back to a rigid state with his full attention to Lance. There’s a hunger in both of the Alpha’s aura, prowling and desperate to taste the sweet delicacy of a willing Omega.

 

Lance has no idea what just happened. When a sudden slickness seems to envelope his underwear, he _freaks._ He swings his arms up, the gauzy material following the action in a breeze of white, as he covers his cheeks that have began to burn with mortification. “What..? What did you do?”

 

“I don’t know. I don’t what I did Lance.” Shiro gravely answers, confusion evident in his reply, but also with traces of hunger start to imbue through his words. Shiro’s face begins to color and there’s sweat starting to appear along his creased forehead.

 

“Fuck. Fuck. Are you telling me your outfit is connected to your body on a biological level?” Keith’s question is ground out with harshness, the younger Alpha’s body being wracked with small tremors as he feels his body reacting to the presence of Lance’s delectable presence.

 

“Maybe? How the hell am I supposed to know?!” Lance shouts back, feeling a hot flush travel through his body. Quiznack. Whatever Shiro did, it wasn’t going to take long until the affects hit him.

 

And Lance was right. It was only few seconds from that thought before he felt the wave rush over him. A searing wave of desire and want, and need and the idea of Mate, Mate, _two possible Mates_ were in front of him and Lance could be a good Omega, a really good Omega, could take both of them at the same time, be just so _good and open_ and could swallow their cocks and take their seed, get plump from it just bulging from all their promises, could take them from his back and his mouth, could slide their essence down his throat and inside of him, swirling around his orifices, he could, he could, he could….!

 

Shit. Lance’s vision came back to him as he realizes he is staring at the ground, inches away from his face. He cups his hand against his mouth, spit seemed to seep out, making his red mouth glossy.

 

At what point did he move as he could feel his knees press against the cold floor?

 

What ever happened Lance couldn’t understand as he scrambles upwards to attempt to leave, but in his haste he can’t find his footing and falls.

 

And is caught by two warm bodies as they soften the blow.

 

The smothering of Alpha lust surrounds Lance and he can’t help but moan from how it sinks in his skin and buzzes around his mind. He feels himself slip in and out from his Omega headspace, from delirious want to sober reflection as he swims through the sea of his feelings. His human pillows shift and there’s a cold burst that showers over Lance. Keith and Shiro. He’s pretty much dry-humping his teammates at this point, and that is definitely not okay in most people’s books. He tries to scramble off the firm muscles underneath but a tight grip prevents that from happening.

 

“Don’t leave.” There’s softness in the plea, and Lance can’t help but gasp from the request. It’s sincere, nothing embeds it with a trace of a lie, but it can’t be. There’s no way that Keith or Shiro would be okay with this. They shouldn’t be.

 

“I-I won’t be able to keep my instincts from taking over. Let me go. Okay, you shouldn’t have to deal with my body not listening to me. It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” Lance clamors out, frantic and worry pouring off from his body, his skin prickles at edge. His body is heightened, his mind slowly melting into one sole agenda _. Mate. Mate._ But he can’t let him his biology win. Won’t let his teammates get subjected to the suffocating stench of an Omega in Heat, making Keith and Shiro go mindless with the need to fill Lance’s unfair request.

 

He can’t. He cares about them too much to drive a wedge into what they have for each other. He’s many things, but a home-wrecker he is not.

 

He needs to leave. Now. His head pounds, throbbing in his skull and everything starts to seem like a sensory-overload. The thick aroma of two healthy Alphas clogs his nose and he uses the fabric flittering across his arms to bunch at his face, making a weak attempt to filter the delectable scent out. His legs are shaking and he can feel his breath labor with each exhale.

 

Keith sits himself behind the Omega. If Lance wasn’t on the brink of his Heat, he might have made a stupid comment on how the Red Paladin totally has his _back_ but instead his eyes zero on the way that Keith hovers over him, nosing his face into the crook of Lance’s nape. The actual bastard was scenting him. Shiro doesn’t even blink at his partner leisurely scenting and spreading another Alpha’s smell on Lance, and the Cuban boy can’t help but feel perplexed.

 

Lance understands that he’s still holding onto some preservation, precious as it is. He’s angry? Or maybe confused? And maybe a little aroused, but he is in Heat, that is to be expected.

 

“Hold the phone, what are you two doing?” Lance manages to slur out.

 

“Scenting you. What else does it look like?” Keith mumbles across tanned skin, lips lightly pressed on Lance’s exposed shoulders.

 

“I kinda see that. But what does it’s ‘my problem not yours’ did you not understand?” Lance grits out, irritation bleeding through and Keith’s violet eyes flash violently. Fuck. Probably shouldn’t have challenged an Alpha like that, especially with Keith being so close to his throat. Lance shudders and the instant submission where he lowers his neck and the satisfied rumble of Shiro underneath Lance perks the Omega’s attention.

 

“How is this your problem? If I remember correctly, I was the one who touched your outfit inappropriately and triggered this response.” Shiro all but describes as his hands start to gasp Lance’s thighs. “In that case, I think we’re obligated to help to out.”

 

_Obligation._

It tastes so dirty. So unwilling. Even if Shiro doesn’t purposely express any distaste at the task-at-hand, it sounds so wrong.

 

“So is this what you think I am. An obligation? The sole Omega on Voltron, is a fucking obligation you have to follow and provide just because?” Lance snarls out, his sweet and heavenly aroma quickly turning bitter and ashy. Keith stills, his senses instantly picking up the change in scenery.

 

“Lance…?” Keith whispers, his face creases with worry.

 

Shiro seems cast aghast. His jaw tightens and relaxes in rapid succession. “I don’t mean it like that.” The Black Paladin seems to choose his words carefully. “Don’t think you’re forcing us to do anything we’re not willing. You’re not a burden Lance. You’re important to the team. And…” He trails off, his gaze striking and strong directly at Lance’s face. “You’re important to both Keith and I.”

 

Important to both Keith and Shiro.

 

Those words seem almost heavy in their confession. Important. To be loved and appreciated. It seems unfair for them to say such sweet things in the situation that they currently find themselves in.

 

He’s high-strung on emotions, he blames it on the fact that he wants to tear up. The Alphas pick up on the hint of saltiness in his scent and they press themselves, their own musky aroma spread across his glands.

 

“Hey baby, you’re alright. We’ve got you. You’re safe now.” Shiro softly coos and Lance wants to melt on the spot from the low timbre of the other man’s voice. “We want you. Both of us out of our own decisions. Not from any biological reasons.”

 

“Well maybe, one minor biological quirk.” Keith ribs with no bite or superiority. “You always smell really good that it’s almost maddening.” He presses his fingers into Lance’s thighs, sliding a light touch up the limb until its exploring the damp mess underneath the skirt. “You’re really wet here aren’t you?”

 

“Keith.” Shiro warns with the hint of some dominance in his scolding.

 

“I’m saying since we’ve done our talking and all that is happening in my brain is that Lance, the Omega who’ve been fucking set-on is in Heat, in our laps and we finally have him. And the fact that I’ve been almost hard since we left the banquet.” Keith finishes off with no shame.

 

Lance wants to howl with laughter. It’s so ridiculous. How insane can you get with this scenario? Certainly he never would have expected it to happen other than some hardcore porn fantasy but it’s actually happening. He’s about to get dicked by two horny Alphas on the floor of their Castle-Ship that they’ve been on for months.

 

“Before I completely lose my mind, can we at least move to the bed.” Lance asks, and he has a second to understand that one moment he was knees-pressed against the cold floor, and the next thrown onto a soft mattress. Alphas sure didn’t wait very long for instructions.

 

He kisses Keith first. He knows because it’s Keith and everything about the Red Paladin seems to be rash, frenzied and passionate from the beginning to the end. Shiro takes it slower, more methodical, more explorative, like he wants to know exactly what makes Lance tick.

 

Every second that pasts, his instincts gradually pool into making him more pliant, intoxicating and seductive. He knows that both Keith and Shiro have been slowly giving into their Alpha sides, from how they lowly growl and preen whenever Lance makes a pleased noise, their hands kneading the exposed flesh and creeping underneath to tease the area covered by the silky skirt.

 

He’s not sure who’s hands are at where, everything feels hot, and his head vibrates with the sheer goal of just wanting to get plugged up by cum from two healthy Alphas in the vicinity. Keith scratches at the golden cuffs, a low growl of frustration rumbling from his throat when he realizes he can’t pry it off. Lance pushes himself back into the smaller Alpha’s chest, coaxing his partner? Teammate? Lover? Into stopping and instead guiding his focus at his hips. Shiro bunches the skirt up until it rises above, showing off Lance’s smaller softened prick and the glistening mess his Omegan slick makes over his thighs.

 

Appreciative noises direct themselves at Lance and his Omega side relishes the attention. The heavy stares, the longing gazes to his lips, torso and his lower half all makes him flush with elation. Digits sliding smoothly out of Lance’s rim, as he mewls and paws his attention at the heightening feeling as he clenches and unclenches. Shiro thumbs the circular area exposed by the skirt and it makes Lance shiver and moan from the feather touches. Too much. He can feel Keith grip his penis, cupping the sacs and leading Lance to think all he wants to do is submit.

 

_Submit._

 

It’s such an easy thing to do. He’s an Omega. Submission is in his blood. He can feel it calling it to him, just present himself, be a good Omega and show how worthy he can be. So he does. He’s a good Omega. A really, really good Omega, that opens himself, to such an attentive audience, enraptured by the display.

 

They react splendidly. Keith makes a low groan of interest and Shiro? Shiro grips Lance tighter than the Blue Paladin has ever known. It doesn’t hurt, not in the way that he expected. It’s tight yes, but its also so much more.

 

They breach him. He doesn’t remember when his two Alphas had already gotten themselves ready but the sudden intrusion clears his mind just for two seconds. He’s been penetrated, doubly so.

 

For that moment in time, everything is peaceful. The scorching heat in his veins, in his head, in his mind, stills. Just focused and relaxed on the one thought: he’s being cared for in the most basic of needs. Human connection, human interaction, human desire.

 

He feels full, in the next second. Its pumped into him. Semen, Alpha-grade and potent. Its inside him, viscous and white. His Omega side is pleased. Ruffling metaphorical feathers and cooing at the great job he did at satisfying too strong and capable Alphas. He wants to protest, he did nothing. Hell, he doesn’t even know if the hazy spots in his memory contained anything he regretted.

 

 

He feels burning on his neck. Sweeping his hands towards the spot, he freezes as he sees blood. Bonded.

 

_Bonded._

 

That moment when all the noise stopped, when his mind cleared of any solid thoughts. It was the bond. Keith and Shiro bonded with him. He’s scared. Terrified. Did they mean to?

 

A bond between an Omega and Alpha is always inherently there in the background, but to actually go through a bonding process requires a lot of established trust and affection. Oh.

 

Is that what everyone on the team was referring to? The stupid crush that he was nursing was actually reciprocated?

 

He snorts incredulously because of course _that’s_ how his life works. The pain of the dual mating bites on his neck flares up when he puts pressure on the areas, but they taper off into soothing rubs when he feels the connection, weak because of how recent it was.

 

He’s content, his body and his mind feel at ease for the first time in a long time since he started this long journey of joining Voltron and freeing the Universe.

 

And now he has two kick-ass Mates. Said Mates who seem to be snoozing on either side of him, seemingly knocked-out.

 

Hang on, just how many rounds did they finish through? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as for the other prompt, that's done at chapter 2, so don't expect any more updates

**Author's Note:**

> they gonna fuck


End file.
